Chapter Twenty-Five

"Someday You'll Be Sorry"

Someday you'll be sorry
The way you treated me was wrong
I was the one who taught you all you know
Your friends have told you to make me sing another song

He asked Lauren out for drinks after the risk management event. She agreed. They had an interesting evening talking business yet winding innuendos into their conversation about topics which were not business related. But they both drove so they parted and promised to call each other.

He had a text as he was driving home which he checked at a stop light. Derek's little brother had made his appearance with appropriate height and weight details: Grayson Thatcher Reynolds. He thought about Derek and his Aunt Cindy who had picked him up soon after Fitz had finished his second cup of coffee and while Derek was still coloring at his breakfast table. Would Cindy wake Derek to tell him or let him sleep?

Fitzwilliam Darcy waited until Tuesday to call Lauren. They arranged to have lunch on Wednesday. She worked as the comptroller for a pharmaceutical company. He wondered that she did not seem more compatible with his cousin Bob. But perhaps it was...boring to date someone in the same field. You found someone interesting because they did something different and you could listen and share about yourself.

Wednesday evening he was sitting at home eating take-out Mexican when he got a phone call from Carmen Brighton, the other woman he had also flirted with at the Innovations event. He was surprised, but flattered, at having a woman call him. In this day and age it was perfectly acceptable.

Unlike Lauren, Carmen was more blatant about her interest in him, her romantic interest, and did not hide it with suggesting discussions of work. She did say that there was an elite networking event coming up, and asked him was he going? He said he had not planned to, but since she mentioned it, was she inviting him? "Yes," she purred, "I am." They hung up with plans to meet on Friday night. Fitz thought, how interesting. You take pride in yourself, and things happen. You meet people and women call you up and ask you out. .

Carmen sold software. She had left school behind and blazed a trail as a sales woman in the Valley, making quite a name for herself (she assured Fitzwilliam). She drove a BMW, same series, same year as Fitz, though hers was white, a discovery that had made them both laugh when they found their cars parked near each other after the networking event.

Unlike Lauren, with whom he had only managed a friendly peck on the cheek after that luncheon on Wednesday, there was definitely kissing involved in the parking lot with Carmen. She was busy, however, on Saturday night, but that didn't mean he couldn't ask Lauren out. There was now kissing involved with Lauren on Saturday night. Things had moved beyond a gentle peck on the cheek.

Again, Fitzwilliam thought he had come to his senses and had found the right place to be. It was the right fit. He knew his place in the world. There had always been aspects of his job which he enjoyed; he had never denied that. Not like Bob whose tagline had always been, "I hate my job."

Darcy just felt he worked too many hours. He had shouldered so many burdens so early, bared so many trials at such an early age. It did not mean the next decade, once he turned thirty, had to be all trials. There could be happiness. Molding himself to the company and discovering his sense of importance, his self-worth was invaluable.

On Monday, he had his Silicon Valley Executives meeting. Again, he took his time. Rather than going for the program, he went to meet people. Rather than being a simple information gatherer, he worked his way around the room, talking to people with that pocketful of business cards.

It seemed neither Carmen nor Lauren was a member of this club, but he did meet another woman: Lenore Hearst.

Darcy looked at her business card and said, "I can't help but ask?" and lifted an eyebrow.

"No relation," she replied.

"Sorry, I am sure you get that a lot," he grinned.

She answered, "yes I do. The Hearsts are an institution in California. I doubt I would be working for a living if I was related to that family. But no, I am not related to the famous Hearsts. I still have to pay an entrance fee to see Hearst Castle."

"You know, I've never been," he said.

"I have. It sort of goes with having that name," she smiled at him. "I had to check out my…distant family."

He thought, as he was driving home, that he liked the name Lenore. There was something old-fashioned about it. He liked that. Not modern or short and clipped like Liz. She had golden blond hair and blue eyes, and Darcy patted himself on the back as he considered he did not have a type, as with Lauren and Carmen. He knew he would call her, but as with Carmen, Lenore called him.

Lenore ran a small software firm which provided customizable software for public agencies, like small city governments, or park and rec programs. She had found a niche and worked hard to maintain her space and to be the best, despite competition. But being her own boss meant she had flexibility, just as Fitzwilliam, Pemberley Energy's CEO had flexibility. She explained during that phone call that she was going out on a limb, being "rather bold," but did Mason Darcy want to go see Hearst Castle with her on Friday?

Fitzwilliam Mason Darcy thought that he was rather enjoying this new-found sense of pride and confidence, and replied he would "love to" to her suggestion. It was a four-hour drive from the Bay Area, and commute traffic was horrible, but he agreed to leave at 7:00 in the morning, which allowed plenty of time for traffic snarls for their 12:10 tour which she had 'miraculously' booked, despite the short notice.

He wanted to stretch his legs after such a call, so he took his coffee cup and went into the break-room to pour himself coffee rather than ask Alex to do it for him. When he turned around from the pot, Bob was standing behind him with his own mug.

Bob looked at his cousin, "what are you up to?"

"I hate that you can read me," said Fitzwilliam.

"Yes, but only to a certain extent, and I have been trying my best to ignore you since you actually think Aunt Kate has a good idea," growled Bob.

"I don't want to argue," began Fitzwilliam.

"Move out of the way and let me get coffee," said Bob and shuffled past him, knocking into his cousin with his shoulder to get to the coffee pot. Fitz stepped aside, but he did not return to his office. He did not like the fact that he and Bob were not seeing eye-to-eye. They did jointly own the company.

"Look, Bob," began Darcy. "We have to think long term…"

"I am thinking long term. I just don't think it has to involve parts of my anatomy," retorted Bob. "I'm thinking about the company. I'm thinking about what we need to do today, what we need to do tomorrow, in three months, in a year, five years and ten years. I'm the CFO, that's how I work."

"I'm considering the company too," said Fitzwilliam.

"No, you're not, 'cause you're not thinking straight," said Bob. "Anyone who thinks Aunt Kate has good advice is not thinking straight."

"But I believe I am," asserted Darcy. "I'm right in this case. Why can't we discuss long-term planning?"

"Because you're on the rebound. No doubt you're having a good time because you're following Aunt Kate's dictates."

"So you're going to discount any suggestion I have because Liz disappeared?"

"Pretty much," said Bob.

"How come I don't get to hold relationships against you?" asked Darcy.

"Because I am the expert," answered Bob.

"I'm taking Friday off," Fitzwilliam changed the subject. Maybe he was boasting.

"What? Why?" stuttered Bob.

"I have a date," said Darcy.

"With Liz?" Bob said expectantly.

"I told you, I have no idea what happened to Liz."

"Oh," said Bob. "Who with?"

"A woman I met last night."

"You're taking a day off of work to have a date with a woman you just met last night?" asked Bob in an unusually quiet voice.

"You have problems with that?" challenged Fitzwilliam.

"A bucket load. But as you seem to be on 'rebound and ruin your life mode,' I will not say anything. Just…oh never mind," and Bob walked away.

Fitzwilliam called Lauren up for lunch on Wednesday. After all, they had had lunch the previous Wednesday. He enjoyed himself very much. No awkward peck goodbye this time, but an enjoyable and affectionate farewell.

Carmen called Wednesday night, but after all, she had called the previous Wednesday night. She chided him for his not picking up the phone to call her after their adventures in the parking lot the previous Friday. She suggested they do something that Friday. He had to apologize that he was otherwise engaged, but suggested he was free Saturday night. They made plans to meet for dinner in an entirely not-business-related manner.

Darcy was feeling rather smug at work on Thursday. It must have showed. He was not sure if word got back to his cousin, but Bob showed up, walking into his office and closing the door behind him to lean on it.

Fitzwilliam looked at him, "I thought you weren't speaking to me until I got this out of my system," he quipped.

"I happened to have lunch at the same seafood place yesterday. Is she the one you're ditching work for?" asked Bob.

"Actually…no." Fitz chair's screeched as he leaned back at an acute angle with a broad grin on his face. "That's Lauren."

"Who are you going away with tomorrow?" asked Bob.

"Lenore."

"Are they all L-named? Is this some weird fetish for women whose names start with L because you'll never get over Liz?" asked Bob.

"No, there's Carmen too. I am having dinner with her on Saturday night," said Fitz.

"You're a bastard, you know that. This isn't going to end well, and they're all going to end up hating you. You don't treat women like this, Fitzwilliam Mason Darcy!" cried his cousin.

"You are giving me advice on how to treat women? You of all people? Really?" cried Fitz.

"What do you know about how I operate?" asked Bob.

"I know you like sex, you like to have it frequently, and you are successful at seduction," answered Fitz.

"All points, yes," agreed Bob. "But that doesn't mean I play the field. I do not play with women's hearts. There are rules, as I once explained to you."

"Rules? Did I miss the day they passed those out in class? Get out of here, Bob," yelled Fitzwilliam.

"Did you meet them all the same night at the same event? What if you are out with one and run into another of your girlfriends?" asked Bob.

Darcy had no reply.

"I appreciate that you've had a hard time these past years, but suddenly deciding that family pride is to be your hallmark, that stamp that indicates to other people that you're a superior man because you've done so much, achieved so much is foolish. Do you suddenly need people to stroke your back and tell you what a good boy you've been?" cried Bob.

"Could you just get out of my office and end the lecture Bob?" growled Fitz.

"Pride is not an indication of quality, how genuine we are. Being genuine is how we treat people, Mason. Actions."

"Yet she left me, disappeared," said Fitz.

"See, I knew this was about Liz," said Bob.

"And if I need call security to get you out of my office, I will do it, so please leave," cried Fitzwilliam.

Bob left.

Lenore had given him her home address readily, unlike Liz who had been so guarded about such things. Darcy picked Lenore up, and they headed out of town. They fell back on discussing work, not that they could not discuss their work in detail since they both ran their own companies, but he had wanted a little more. She had a lot to share about starting a company using money from an angel investor, hiring the right people, and working hard.

He could not help thinking, as she talked about all of the time and effort she had put in through the years that she was older than him. He thought that such a point did not really matter though, and any woman who had founded a successful company was likely to have been 'at it' for many years.

There were the usual traffic slow-downs, but they lucked out with no accidents to delay them. It gave the two of them time to find a little coffee and pie shop to grab a bite to eat. There was something about eating that allowed for a little more intimacy. He had found that with Liz, and Lenore shared more about being an only child and being the apple of her parents' eyes. She seemed to have come to the same conclusion he had, that she worked too much, and was looking for companionship.

They lingered a bit too long and then had to rush to join their tour. It was for the 'Upstairs Suites,' all the personal and private rooms in Hearst Castle, including William Randolph Hearst's own quarters. Fitzwilliam had been in many expensive mansions in the Bay Area, but nothing like this. No one lived like this anymore. Hearst Castle was not a house or a mansion; it really was a castle, a fairy-tale castle.

At one point, Lenore had turned to him with a quizzical look and asked, "your father had money, right?"

"Yes," he replied.

"His name was William too. I wonder if it goes with the name. William Randolph. What was your father's middle name, Mason?"

"David, for his father," he answered.

"Oh," she said, almost sounding disappointed. "I wondered if it wasn't Randolph, and if the name was somehow tied to his success. William David is honorable enough," she smiled at him. "Life is like that, having the right start; the right name can help you go places. I was to be named Lisa originally, ugly name, but my father argued for Lenore. Unusual enough that it has got me in the door and helped me out."

"My given name is Fitzwilliam. I use my middle name actually," he said.

"Yes I know. I looked you up," she explained as they followed along with their tour. "That one is odd, perhaps a little too odd to get you where you need to go in business and in life."

They finished their tour and chose to stop at a beach and take some time to watch waves crash against the shore, and to enjoy the fresh air, the open space, and the sparsely populated sand. Beaches are crowded on the weekends, but not on weekdays.

It was still the same expected four-hour drive home and this time they hit traffic. It was Friday afternoon, and there were people trying to get out of town for the weekend. Somehow, even though they were heading back into town, it was still a nightmare, and the backup extended even to the farthest extent of what could be considered the San Francisco Bay Area, what had once been the country, farmland.

When they hit a particularly slow spot on the freeway, Lenore checked her phone. "There seems to be an accident, actually it looks like there are two."

"Well, that's what we get, but it was an enjoyable day. I am still glad you suggested it," he replied.

"You know, Mason. San Juan Baptista is the next turn-off. Have you ever been there?" Lenore asked.

"No, isn't that a mission?" Part of his brain recalled grade school lessons on California missions.

"It's a town too. We could just stop over there," she suggested.

"I am getting hungry," he said.

"No," Lenore replied. "Stop over." The traffic really was at a stand-still so he looked over at his companion of the day to catch her eye and her meaning.

"Spend the night?" he asked.

"There is this arrogant, aloof air about you, Mason, that makes me want to see if I can crack the shell and see what's underneath," her voice was modulated, soft, and part of his brain thought, seductive, though part of him was still processing her proposal.

Part of him was ready to turn off onto a small highway to go see San Juan Baptista, and to find a small hotel to spend the night with this lady he had only met on Monday. But he considered his father confessor, Bob. His cousin telling him he needed to look at Liz's actions, and he thought such advice was a two-way street. His own actions spoke about who he was. He was not sure where he and Lenore were heading and what sleeping with her would mean.

He had the sense that she was a woman who had decided she was ready to settle down and marry. Though it was the space he wanted to move into, he did not think it was something he could decide with one date, despite its being a long car ride, and with one night in a hotel room. He and Liz had had their little morning meetings, their dinners. There is something about time away to contemplate a conversation, mull over someone's words, to think and to talk together again. A relationship took time to develop.

He turned to the companion in his car, "it is only five. We can make it home." He sounded very practical. "I am tempted," he explained further, "but for sure, next time."

"Next time," she agreed and seemed content with that answer. It did mean there was an awkward period in the car for a while, but traffic began moving again, and they found a rhythm of conversation again. There were topics enough to get them home, to Lenore's house.

It was just about eight, dark, and they were both tired. But Lenore was not going to give up without one more try, so she mentioned that it was still early enough that they could order in (she was not much of a cook) and was he sure he did not want to stay? They had had their arms around each other; their lips had discovered one another. He assured her it would be a welcome suggestion, the next time.

He stopped for fast food, a burger and fries, and considered he could have had a far more interesting dinner with a far more interesting dessert when, instead, he was going home to sleep alone. Part of him did think, damn Bob for being my conscious about all of this. But he also could not help but consider the parallels with Liz cooking him dinner and that most fantastic night they had spent together. He really did not want to be thinking about Liz when he had spent the day with Lenore. He also had a date with Carmen the next day. It had been a long day. He went home and did his best to attempt to sleep.

Carmen proposed the same sort of after-dinner event as Lenore, asking him to stay. Fitzwilliam wondered that he did not expect that. He used the same line on Carmen as he had on Lenore, "next time." Then he went home to an even more sleepless night than the previous one. He felt like texting his cousin at one o'clock in the morning with some very choice words which would have gotten him kicked out of middle school for knowing. But it was not truly Bob's fault for making him consider that his own actions were ones to look at too. He could not help the moments Liz slipped into his consciousness.

He considered looking her up, wondered if that might help explain her more. But there had been that guy in his dorm that third year in college who did not take no for an answer when his girlfriend split up with him. He took to stalking her, leaving notes on her car weighed down with bullets. Despite a restraining order, the guy had been arrested breaking into her dorm room, and convicted. The man's computer had been a shrine to his ex-girlfriend; he had wired cameras to spy on her; he had paid every single information service possible for every scrap of information about his ex. Where did curiosity end and obsession begin? He did not Google Liz.

But Fitzwilliam found something inside him, and he just resolved to do his best to forget Liz and to stick with the plan. Aunt Kate's plan, his own plan for Pemberley Energy. He had promised both women a night in his company whenever they met up again. He would concentrate on that. He would concentrate on work and think no more of Liz Bennet.

Georgie called him. His hands began to sweat as he accepted the call. She never willingly called him if she could text or Facetime him. Fitz wondered what was wrong.

"I've changed my mind," she said. Georgie didn't bother to identify herself.

"About what?" he asked as his mind ran through a half dozen issues that could be troubling her.

"I'm not coming home for the summer," she said.

"Oh," it was not what he had expected her to say. "What are you going to do then?"

"Take an art class. We talked about this. You said I shouldn't change my major, besides which I thought it would wind up Aunt Kate if I didn't come home."

"So you'll stay in Galveston?" he asked.

"No, I'm going to move to Houston for the summer. Allison is coming with me. I said it was to be a different school, right? Anyways, I've applied to UH for their first summer term and I'll try my hand at art."

"Wow. So I won't see you at all?" he asked.

"Well…I may not do all the summer terms. Perhaps I'll take a break and come home in August before I have to go back to Galveston for the fall," she said, and he could hear that she was uncertain about the whole plan.

He wanted to tell her to stick with biology, even though he was pleased she had found a solution to see if she had any budding artistic talent. But she was also, technically, an adult. "It all sounds good," he assured her. "Keep me informed, and let me know when you'll come home. I'll miss you not being here."

"Thanks Mason, bye!" she sang out and hung up.

It seemed some at work did not appreciate his new outlook, because it meant a change in his attitude. He, Jackson Carter, and Dennis Bolton-Meyers got into a rather heated discussion about the battery project and Pemberley Energy becoming a government contractor which left all of them frustrated and angry. It made many wonder if the project was to be a viable option for Pemberley if the principle players could not agree.

Charles came to see him. His friend seemed to have caught on about Fitzwilliam's mood, but Fitz also wondered if he had had no luck with women in Silicon Valley as Charles appeared less than his usual cheerful self in their meeting. Even though it had been an impromptu discussion, it had been solely about business. Charles had then thanked him and walked away. Perhaps his trip home still weighed on Bingley's mind as his grandmother had passed away.

There had not been that usual friendly talk which denigrated into a personal and comfortable discussion afterward. Fitz realized how much he enjoyed that and looked forward to those little moments with his friend. Maybe Charles had finally adopted a routine at Pemberley Energy and needed to run off and do something. Perhaps Fitz' mood threw him off. He did not know.

Fitzwilliam did think to call Carmen, and she snagged his Friday night. Just dinner again? He agreed. Tuesday he called both Lauren and Lenore. He made plans for Wednesday luncheon with Lauren which was largely a repeat of the past two lunches. Lenore and he made plans for dinner on Saturday, a romantic dinner. With promises of dessert afterward.